


Control

by lourrygum



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Feelings, Kinda, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, Sexual Content, and then
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:26:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lourrygum/pseuds/lourrygum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael hasn’t come in five days, and he’s exhausted. Him and Luke are getting praise from their crew left right and centre because of how well they’ve been performing lately. How much “heat” they’ve been putting into their shows. Michael’s been working himself absolutely ragged onstage, until he’s so exhausted he can barely stand after. It works for a little while, then it stops working, and when he crawls into bed, the problem is still there. The problem being his boner.</p><p>or, michael makes a bet with luke</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> *shrugs* idk man

“I love this glamorous life that we live.” Luke mutters into the couch cushion his face is smushed against. Michael looks at him, and then back at the TV, where a re-run of How I Met Your Mother is playing. He’s perfectly content. It was either this, or go out and explore Amsterdam with Calum and Ashton. And they didn’t get to bed until like 3am yesterday so that was ruled out for everyone that didn’t have supernatural strength like the other half of their band. Luke is just whiny.

“Same.” He chooses not to acknowledge Luke’s sarcasm. The door’s right there, he can fuck off if Michael’s company and mediocre television comedy isn’t enough for him.

Luke sits up and Michael feels his eyes settle on his face. Michael chooses to ignore him, though. He stares at the TV until the screen blurs, but then he sees Luke start to smile in his peripheral vision at Michael’s doomed attempt at ignoring him. Michael cracks an involuntary smile, still not looking at him because his body apparently loves Luke even when his mind wants to annoy him. He pulls the blanket in his lap over the right side of his face, forming a shield between himself and the Boy Wonder.  
Luke pumps his fist in victory, before standing up and stretching out, locking his fingers and pushing them up above his head. His tee shirt rises over his navel, Michael sees when the blanket falls off again, because the universe is against all attempts to tune Luke out. Luke scratches the back of his neck and then walks to the door. “’M gonna go find something better to do.”

It’s the mix of betrayal and pettiness still left in him that makes Michael turn to him with an actual smirk. “Just make sure to keep it down.” He says, voice full of innuendo and suggestions. 

Luke’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. It’s hilarious to see his mouth drop open in shock when he gets what Michael’s insinuating. “I’m not- _Gross_ , Michael, ‘m not gonna go jack off. What the fuck.”

“Never said you were,” Michael sings, thrumming with glee at the blush starts to spread down to Luke’s neck. Luke pulls Michael’s blanket off of him and flings it to the floor.

“You’re the worst. I’m just gonna go listen to music or- or something.” Luke looks like a whiny kid who no one believes. Michael doesn’t put it past him to stamp his foot at this point.

“’S okay, Luke, it’s not like its news.” Michael continues, like a dog with a damn bone. “Everyone knows about the frequency of your, uh. Adventures.” He giggles.

“You’re such a dick,” Luke says, arms folded and cheeks flaming. “I don’t- don’t get myself off that often.” Luke shakes his head. Michael lets his eyes stray back to the TV now that the score has been settled and Michael has one over him and everything is one again right in the world. “Not half as much as you, anyway.” 

Michael looks at Luke, raising a hand to point a finger at him. “You take that back.” He says, but Luke just starts laughing, and _no_ , he can’t just do that. He needs to come up with his _own_ jibe, his own teasing material. This is plagiarism, is what this is.

“Not even quiet about it.” Luke grins, “Can’t even go two days without-“

“I fucking can!” Now _Michael’s_ the whiny one.

Luke looks like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever said and Michael wants to punch him in his still-slightly-exposed stomach, just so Luke will shut up and maybe whine a little but then Michael can rub it for him and everyone will just _shut up_. This isn’t the first time Michael’s regretted starting something.

“Ten bucks says you can’t.” Luke jeers, folding his arms and taking a step back as he takes in the murderous look on Michael’s now-red face. Smart boy.

“I bet my _twitter account_ ,” Michael says, very fucking unwisely, “that I can. And you can’t.”

Luke laughs loudly, throwing his head back with the cocky sound that fills Michael with false bravado. “Fine. Fine.”

“Fine!”

^

It’s not fine.

Luke sits back down once they’ve made the bet, showing that he was, indeed, about to go into his room and jerk himself off. Michael chuckles, and Luke flings a pillow at his face, which makes Michael laugh harder. They watch the TV but Michael’s mind strays. He likes to think of himself as having self-control. He never really thought about the frequency with which he was getting off before, because it never really mattered. Why should it? As long as he was keeping it down and not getting come on anything that belonged to anybody else, who gave a fuck? But in hindsight, it seems like he’s been doing it a lot. Tour is the absolute pits for intimacy between him and anyone else but his hand, so he’d really had no other option. He thinks back to last night, the night before, two nights before that.

Getting off had become an almost-daily routine for him and he’d never noticed. And he’d gone and made a bet on it. With _Luke_ for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t forfeit; he would never live it down. He had to win. He _could_ win, this was Luke. Luke, who was always taking forever in the shower and fumbling around in his bunk when he thought everyone was asleep, making Michael feel confusing things and subsequently tease him relentlessly about it. 

Ashton and Calum walk into the hotel suite about a half hour later. Calum walks into the living area and sits with his feet on Michael’s lap. “I’m home.” He says, patting Michael’s face, then blowing a kiss at Luke. “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah,” Luke says, jutting his lower lip as if he’s not evil. “Mikey’s always mean to me when you’re gone.”

“Michael Gordon,” Calum shakes his head in mock-disapproval.

“’M mean to you all the time. I’m open about it. Fuck off.” Michael says. Calum looks at him, a thick eyebrow raised. A silent _what happened_? “Me and Luke made a masturbation bet.”

“A what?” Ashton says, coming in with a smoothie from the kitchen. He sits next to Luke, and when no one answers, he looks at Calum. Calum just shrugs, looking confused. 

“I was sick of Luke and his constant need to toss off,” Michael says, ignoring Luke’s raised middle finger, “and things happened. We made a bet. He’s gonna lose.” Michael shrugs, trying to make it a smaller deal than it’s slowly becoming. Ashton looks exasperated. Calum looks amused.

“What, so whoever comes first loses?” Calum giggles. 

“Yeah.” Luke shrugs, taking Ashton’s smoothie and ignoring his protest. “So, like. Whenever Michael comes.” He takes a sip, determination shining in his eyes, and that’s when Michael figures that if he’s ever going to orgasm again, he’s going to need to get Luke out.

^

The night isn’t that bad, really. Michael just busies himself on Twitter and Snapchat until he feels so tired he wouldn’t have bothered touching himself even if he hadn’t basically taken a vow of chastity or whatever. He’s just plugging his phone into the charger to go to bed when Luke bursts into his room, in black boxers and socks and nothing else.

“You need to sleep with your door open.” He says, rubbing his eyes. 

“Are you calling me a cheater?” Michael says, too tired to even put any emotion into it.

“Yes.” Luke says, turning around to walk out, leaving Michael’s door wide open. “That’s exactly what I’m calling you.”

^

Michael feels a little cranky going into sound-check the next day. He’d all but wrapped his hand around his cock in the shower that morning before he remembered Luke brushing his teeth just five steps away, and washed himself quickly before getting out instead.

It’s not, like, frustrating or anything, not yet. It’s just a little annoying. It helps, that Luke’s can’t seem to stop his thigh bouncing up and down during the car ride to the venue, can’t stop trying to work off the tension. It helps that he seems to be starting to feel it, at least. All Michael needs to do is urge him along, slowly tip him off the edge, And then he’s free.

“This is the weirdest thing you two have ever done,” Ashton sighs, watching Michael watch Luke with an intensity that must be a little worrying. Luke’s so caught up in himself that he doesn’t even notice. 

“Thanks.” Michael says, smiling at Ashton.  
Playing the set that night is intense. They’re all into it, feeling the music, they always are. Ashton’s going all out on his drums, Calum’s _worshipping_ his base, but Luke. This is one of those nights that Michael expects to see pictures of Luke all over social media, with captions that are basically keyboard smashes. He’s working that guitar like  
Michael hasn’t ever really seen before, the heat and concentration in his eyes making the crowd almost incoherent with the buzz of the show.

Michael feels eyes on him. Of course he does, there’s 20k in the audience. He means, more than usual, people looking from him to Luke and back again. He tries to tune it out, to remain focused but hallway through the guitar solo in _Amercan Idiot_ and Michael’s working his hardest to find release through his fucking guitar, the crowd goes wild and starts roaring.

“Muke, Muke, Muke, Muke,” They chant, _loudly_ and Michael feels a little high off of it. Apparently, he’s acting the exact same way as the blond. Calum laughs, Luke dances over to his side of the stage and stands right in front of him. The screams intensify and Luke reaches his hand forward to Michael’s guitar strings. Luke smiles at him, in a way that says, ‘give them what they want’, but Michael might as well be able to read his mind.

They strum each other’s guitars for a bit, and Luke’s looking right into his eyes as he does it. That focused, intent _I’m trying-to-turn-you-on_ radiating from his body. Michael turns away from his microphone to smirk at Luke. “’S that all you have planned? You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.” Luke rolls his eyes, taking a step back once the solo’s done. “Loins of steel, Luke,” Michael laughs, turning his back to the crowd, lest they decipher what he’s saying and get him in a pile of shit with their management. “Loins of steel.”

^  
They crash from the excitement of the show about an hour later, like they usually do. It’s routine at this point. Luckily, this time, they’re at their hotel and beds and showers are within walking distance. Ashton, now calmed down, assumes his usual mother-hen role.

“Please stop giving our fans reasons to think you two are fucking,” He says, when they’re all in the bathroom. Luke showers with Calum so they can both get to bed quicker, while Ashton brushes his teeth with Michael.

“No,” Luke says over the running water. Calum snickers. “D’you give up yet, Mikey?” Luke asks after a short silence. 

Michael rinses his mouth with Listerine before answering. “No, why? Getting too much for you?” He teases.

“No,” Luke says. 

“Looks like it is,” Calum says, and Michael laughs. 

“No it doesn’t,” Luke says, annoyed, “Stop looking at my dick.”

^

Michael waits about ten minutes after Luke goes to bed before going to his room. Luke’s a lump under the large white duvet. Michael shuts his bedroom door, and lifts it up. Luke groans wordlessly.

“What.” He says, face pressed against the pillow, eyes closed. “If it’s Michael, go away.”

“It’s Ashton.” Michael says, climbing in and covering them both. “As the band mother, I demand you forfeit this bet right now.”

“Shh,” Luke puts his whole hand over Michael’s face. “Sleep time. Why are you in my bed?”

“’Cause.” Michael shrugs, shuffling closer to Luke and pushing him over a little, onto his side. Michael fits his arms around Luke’s waist, and Luke tells him to fuck off. But he also presses back against Michael, and settles with his back against Michael’s chest at the same time, so. It doesn’t really hold any weight. 

“Why isn’t your dick hard?” Luke wonders, pressing back against Michael a little more, so he rubs against Michael’s crotch. Michael digs his fingers hard into Luke’s waist, and Luke groans. The answer to the question is that Michael’s just spent the last ten minutes watching a mind-numbingly boring documentary about the life cycle of a milk carton and if he can just keep the monotone voice of a woman narrating the recycling process fresh in his mind, he should be good. If Luke keeps pressing his ass against his dick, however, he’s going to lose all progress. 

“It’s just not.” Michael says. “Why? ‘S’yours?” He smirks, already knowing the answer, thanks to Calum in the shower.

“No.” Luke lies blatantly. 

“No?” Michael says, a little quieter. The hand on his waist slowly inches down to Luke’s abdomen. He hears Luke’s sharp intake of breath, stomach jumping beneath his touch. There’s really no time for doubt, or thought, or even for Michael’s brain to scream _what are you doing??_ at him. Luke doesn’t stop him, however, doesn’t say anything at all. Just lies there, a little breathless and pliant. Maybe Michael underestimated just how bad he needs release. 

His fingers trail lower, until they come across the hard bulge in Luke’s boxers. He exhales quietly, warm breath washing over Luke’s neck. Luke shudders, and Michael’s squeezes gently, earning another little gasp. Right. Okay. Okay Michael just needs to keep this going, this gentle pressure. With how worked up Luke seems already, it really shouldn’t take long at all. He squeezes Luke again, and feels a wet patch start to form in his underwear, his cock pulsing, hot and hard. 

Michael bites his lip to hold back the moan building in his throat as Luke pushes back against him again, almost involuntarily this time. Michael presses his lips to Luke’s neck, sucking at the whimper building up in his throat. Luke rocks into his hand, and he’s so easy for it that Michael wants to moan.

“Fuck, you really wanted to come, didn’t you?” He asks, only getting a weak nod from Luke in return. 

The door is flung open suddenly, and Michael curses quietly. Luke startles, body jerking in Michael’s hold. “Holy shit, Michael,” comes Ashton’s voice. The light is turned on, and he squints into the sudden brightness. “Leave him _alone_ , that’s not fair.”

“There are no rules.” Michael says against Luke’s neck, not even looking at Ashton. He works the heel of his hand against Luke’s length, and Luke lets a moan escape him. With a long-suffering sigh, Ashton tugs the duvet off the both of them, before pulling at Michael, sighing again when he sees where Michael’s hand is.

“Come on,” he urges, “Let go.” 

“No,” Michael’s whining now, feeling awfully exposed like this, his hard-on now clearly visible in his own boxers. Luke rolls onto his front, groaning quietly and not looking at anyone.

“Jesus,” Ashton says. “What is this bet doing to you?”

“Just go away,” Michael says, “I just needed like two more minutes.”

Ashton ends up dragging Michael away to his bed, and lecturing him for two minutes about pouncing on Luke while he’s weak. 

^

Luke has dark circles under his eyes the next morning. So does Michael, but he makes a point of acting cheerier than he actually feels. The key is to act like he’s absolutely fine, so Luke thinks he’s never going to need to get off again, and then after Luke loses, he takes a long shower and comes in torrents.

Baby steps.

“Good morning, Luke, Calum.” He says. Luke just takes another sip of his coffee. 

Calum looks at Michael. “Heard you jacked Luke off last night.”

“I slept great, thanks,” Michael says, getting out some bread and putting it in the toaster. 

Luke gets up to add more cream to his coffee, fixing Michael with a cold glare when their eyes meet. Michael rolls his eyes. Luke started it, with his ridiculous onstage behaviour. Michael would’ve probably did what he did even if Luke didn’t start it, but well. No-one needs to know that. He can’t help but think if only Ashton had minded his own business, Luke would’ve come in his boxers like a 16-year-old and Michael would have maybe gotten off to that, because he’s the one that made him do it. Maybe. He’s been feeling a little conflicted as of late.

“How about you, Luke?” Michael grins. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” Luke spits. 

“Glad to hear it.”

^

Michael goes to bed that night with Luke’s little whimpers on his mind, and his hand wrapped around his cock. It helps, a little. 

^

Michael hasn’t come in five days, and he’s exhausted. Him and Luke are getting praise from their crew left right and centre because of how well they’ve been performing lately. How much “heat” they’ve been putting into their shows. Michael’s been working himself absolutely ragged onstage, until he’s so exhausted he can barely stand after. It works for a little while, then it stops working, and when he crawls into bed, the problem is still there. The problem being his boner.

He wakes up on the seventh night from a wet dream, drenched in sweat, his hips rutting into the mattress. He gasps as he’s jolted into awareness, the blurry memories of his sub-consciousness escaping him the moment he opens his eyes. He can’t remember the details, but his mind won’t let him forget that it was Luke. He hasn’t had a wet dream in two years. He groans into his pillow, and hears feet padding along the floor, towards his room. He knows to expect Luke. He’d made too much noise, alerted him probably. Luke was always a bit of a light sleeper. 

Luke appears in his doorway, sure enough, yawning and eyeing Michael suspiciously. “Did you come, just now?” He asks. 

Michael shakes his head. “No.”

Luke eyes his suspiciously, not quite believing him. Michael sighs and flips over onto his back, yanking the blankets off himself so Luke can see that he hasn’t. Luke flushes a  
little, but nods and pads back to his own room.

^

Michael switches tactics, in terms of getting Luke to give up. There are times that he seems relatively relaxed, and that’s when Michael goes for him, in terms of dick-grabbing. It’s nothing serious, just palming him through his jeans, because if Michael’s going to be hard and suffering, Luke is too. He responds the same way each time, with a squeal and then shoving Michael away. Ashton has given up on yelling at Michael at all. Calum laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever experienced.

The trick is to do it when they’re in public, but can’t necessarily be seen. Under tables, in restrooms, in dressing rooms, backstage, in cars. Michael is _dying_ with how bad he needs release, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to admit defeat to Luke.

^

They’re alone backstage when Michael goes for Luke’s cock on pure instinct. Luke grabs his hand and, very unexpectedly, shoves Michael back against the wall, jaw clenched and eyes blazing. Michael stares at him in shock and Luke uses the moment to nudge Michael’s thighs apart, press his knee between them. 

Michael swallows and Luke eyes trail over his face, taking in his expression. Michael really has no idea what he must see there, he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. Until Luke releases Michael’s hand that he had got pinned against the wall, and takes his hips, slowly pressing them down against his thigh. Michael groans, feeling more helpless that he has since this whole bet started. Every ounce of self-control vanishes. He lets Luke rock him against his thigh, his cock straining against his jeans. 

He can feel Luke too, as hard as he is, and if all sense hadn’t completely escaped him, he would act on it, turn the tables on him. But he can’t, is the thing. He bucks against Luke’s body as the younger boy slowly, finally, works him towards release. Michael chokes out a ragged, needy sound and Luke presses his lips against his. Michael’s stomach flutters, and squeezes as Luke licks into his mouth. It feels easy, the most natural thing in the world. It’s like they’ve done it before, with the ease that they fit together.

“Shh,” Luke whispers, sucking Michael’s lower lip into his mouth. Michael realises he’s been moaning, open-mouthed and shameless. “You’re gonna come for me, Mikey?” Luke asks, voice not teasing at all, but thick and lustful. Michael shudder, nodding, eyes squeezing shut as his body goes lax. “Yeah? ‘S it worth it, losing the bet just to come on my thigh?” Luke asks, coaxing the answers from Michael before he even knows he’s said them.

“Yes,” Michael groans, and it’s the utmost truth. He’d give away anything, he thinks, to come on Luke’s thigh right now. “Yes, _please_ ,” He pants, voice full of desperation. 

“Bet you’ve been leaking into your boxers all morning,” Luke moans as Michael’s back arches away from the wall, allowing Luke to put his hand against the small of his back. He tugs Michael’s jeans and boxers down, just enough so Luke can get at Michael cock. He wraps his tight fist around it. Michael isn’t going to make it out of this alive. “Been pretending you don’t need to get off, when you’re this easy for it.” 

He tugs him off quickly, his pace fast and his grip warm and tight and everything Michael’s been craving for over a week now. Michael bucks, almost involuntarily. He’s going to come so hard- His heart’s going to explode out of his fucking chest- 

“Can never stop fucking- _thinking_ about you, thinking about you coming into my room again like before and fucking finishing me off this time,” Luke rasps, “Climbing on top of me and pressing me into the mattress- fuck,” he pants, and Michael comes at that, spurting off in his pants and kissing Luke hungrily.

It’s a turn of events that he’d never have seen coming, but for now, at least, Michael doesn’t give a fuck. He seems to come for so _long_ before his body finally stops jerking against Luke’s. When he’s done, Luke is practically the only thing holding him up, his legs absolutely useless. His hand fumbles with Luke’s zip as soon as he feels as if he can breathe again, sliding his jeans and boxers down so he can get at his cock.

Luke moans softly as Michael wraps his fist around him, slowly jerking him off, just to hear those pretty whimpers that have been haunting his dreams, again. His grip tightens a little as he comes down a bit more, taking hold of Luke’s hips and flipping them around so he’s against the wall instead. They must look fucking ridiculous, both of them with their jeans lowered just past their asses. Michael can’t find it in him to care just yet, just wants to make Luke come, and then he wants to fuck him. God, he wants to fuck him.

“Have you- you got lube, by any chance?” Michael asks a nearly incoherent Luke. His heads tipped against the wall behind him, and the wide expanse of his bare neck is too much for Michael to resist He kisses and nips and sucks, and Luke leaks so much. He’s so wet, and Michael’s fingers are so sticky and he’d think it was gross but it’s Luke and he can’t bring himself to.

Luke nods, a whine stuck in his throat. “S’in my bag- oh, fuck,” He hiccups, “Fuck, Mikey, I’m gonna come,”

Michael just nods, tearing his eyes away from Luke to search for his rucksack. It lies on the floor near the sofa. He turns back to the younger boy, pressing his lips against his just as Luke shudders through his release. Michael feels himself start to chub up again, already, as Luke moans into his mouth.

“If you’d have just told me,” Michael says, pulling away from Luke for a brief second to grab his bag. He opens it, pulling out the small container of slick and saving the questions about why he has that with him for later. Michael shakes his head. “If I’d had my way,” he tries again, popping the cap and getting his fingers wet. “We wouldn’t have let it go this far. Wouldn’t have waited ‘till you were this far gone. ‘Till _I_ was this far gone.”

Luke takes in a shaky breath, ridding himself off his jeans and underwear. Michael does the same, kicking the clothes off and stumbling into a side table that’ll just have to do because Michael doesn’t think they can get any farther. Michael hikes Luke up onto the table, spreading his legs and stepping between them. 

The table rocks as Michael folds Luke’s thighs up, pressing a finger into his hole. Luke whines, arching his hips up for it, bucking against the digit as Michael fucks it in and out of him. “Yeah,” Luke groans, silently begging for another, “ _Please_.” Michael slides a second finger into Luke’s warm body alongside the first, dick curving against his stomach with the needy sounds pouring out of Luke’s mouth. Pre-come drips into Luke’s navel with every crook of Michael’s fingers. 

“How long have you wanted this for?” Michael breathes. It hits him, suddenly, that _he’s_ wanted this too. All this time. He’s just been lying to himself. Luke tightens around his fingers, bringing a hand down to tug at his cock. Michael rips it away, shaking his head. “No. You’re not doing that. Answer me.”

“I don’t know,” He pants, as Michael works one more finger into him. “I’ve always- I think since we started. Since the beginning of the band. You- I-“ Luke shakes his head, eyes squeezes shut. Words seem to evade him. Michael relates; it doesn’t stop him from crooking his fingers through. Luke’s back arches, and Michael wonders if he could make Luke come again, like this, all over his stomach. Spread his legs again before he can even come down and fuck another one out of him. 

Luke seems to get what Michael’s silently plotting, because his eyes flutter open to lock on the older boy’s. “I can’t,” He rasps, already sounding and looking sex-wrecked, making Michael’s blood thrum in his veins in a staccato of _needneedneedneed_. 

“Could’ve been fucking you all this time,” Michael sounds somewhat exasperated, muscles in his forearm flexing as he curls his fingers relentlessly, mind fuzzy with the need to make Luke fall apart again, chest swelling with pride at how easily he does it. “Could’ve been making you feel good, _all this time_.

“ _Michael_ -“ Luke chokes.

“You’re gonna come already aren’t you?” Michael pants. In the back of his mind, he knows Luke deserves it, to an extent. It’s been a long week and a half of no release, it’s like making up for lost time. “You’re squeezing around my fingers so tight, fuck,” he groans, as every muscle in Luke’ body seems to screw up as he comes all over his stomach and t-shirt, crying out Michael’s name. Michael pulls his fingers out of him, slowly fucking his cock into him instead. Luke just moans at the sensitivity, lips parted and eyes shut.  
Michael leans in to kiss him, and Luke kisses back eagerly, whimpering with every thrust of Michael’s hips. 

Michael could probably get off to the sounds Luke makes alone. He’s so far gone, incoherent, can’t seem to even find words to say anymore. He lets Michael push his knees up against his chest and fuck him, the table rocking underneath them. Desperate gasps, throaty moans, beautiful, beautiful keening sounds when Michael is buried inside him, inside  
the glorious slickness that knocks his breath out of him every time. Luke gives little surprised gasps, like he can’t adjust to the stretch, the fullness.

“Yeah?” Michael stutters, hoping Luke understand what he’s trying to say. Luke just nods, hips rolling to meet Michael’s. 

“Please,” Is all Luke manages to moan, tightening around Michael. Michael groans, eyes screwing shut. He doesn’t even want to _think_ about the hardness of Luke’s  
dick started to grow against their stomachs, doesn’t want to take a minute at all to dwell on how fucking hot that is. Michael’s not going to last long, he knows that much. Luke arches his back, his body flushed and smeared with come. “You’re so big,” Luke pants, pressing into Michael’s relentless thrusts. 

“’S that- are you good?” Michael asks, slowing down. Luke nods immediately, digging his heels into the small of Michael’s back to make him move again.

“It’s good, you fill me up so good,” Michael moans, rolling his hips into Luke’s tight body. Luke gasps at the new angle, and Michael tries to stay with it, consumed with the need to see Luke come again. “Don’t stop,” Luke pleads, “Please don’t stop.”

Michael groans, lips pressing against Luke’s neck, sucking a dark bruise into the pale skin, finally wrapping a hand around Luke’s cock, jerking him off quickly. Luke sobs out  
Michael’s name, throwing his head back and writhing, caught between the two pleasures. He comes right before Michael, moaning as Michael fills him up.

^

Luke gets full access to Michael’s twitter account, as the winner of the bet. He tweets embarrassing things that are going to be a bitch to deny later, assuring Michael he’ll suck him off later to make up for it. Michael can’t even bring himself to be mad.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to comment what you thought otherwise tell me on tumblr @gonnamuke :)) love you guys


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